


these voices won't leave me alone

by chocobos



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Tranquil Hawke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4732907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobos/pseuds/chocobos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, it happens because Fenris is careless.</p>
<p>(Or, in which Hawke is captured by renegade Templars, and there is nothing Fenris can do about it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	these voices won't leave me alone

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by [this](http://jbr-art.tumblr.com/post/127590155861/snap-out-of-it-no-one-has-the-heart-to-stop-him) piece of artwork i saw on tumblr. i couldn't get tranquil!hawke out of my head, and this fic has been agonizing to write!
> 
> this is angsty, possibly the most angsty thing i've written in years -- if you know my writing style i prefer fluffy aus where my faves are happy so this has been a definite strain on my writing ability; in a good way, though! 
> 
> that being said, i'm incapable of writing unhappy endings, so never fear, this will have a **happy** ending!
> 
> this fic is also my first time writing from fenris's pov, which i'm pretty nervous about. i hope to update this weekly, but i can make no promises. i already have the first half of the second chapter written so! lets see if i can kick my ass into gear.
> 
> *** this is set _after_ the events of kirkwall, but during inquisition. this fic will also include inquisition characters, as fenris turns to the inquisitor for help ***
> 
> okay, enough babbling, i hope you enjoy this !!!!!

In the end, it happens because Fenris is careless.

They’re in the backend of Thedas, somewhere between the Hinterlands and what Hawke refers to as the Storm Coast. They haven’t been around one of the bigger villages in a few weeks now, so Fenris is feeling oddly at ease. He has preferred to stay away from the bigger cities since the mage blew up the Chantry, which is just as well. They’re rather inconspicuous, if he’s being honest.

Fenris has been preoccupied with trying to find a reliable food and water source that isn’t heavily guarded by renegade templars or trigger happy rebel mages, so he doesn’t realize anything is amiss until he hears Hawke give a choked off cry. It’s followed by a heavy thud.

He is (understandably) immediately troubled.

Hawke is a substantial man, coming in almost a complete head taller than Fenris. There’s no one other than Hawke who could have made that noise. He doubts there are any wandering Qunari in these parts -- though knowing Thedas, Fenris thinks wearily, it’s possible -- so the noise had to have come from him.

“Hawke,” Fenris starts, “Are you hurt?” Fenris springs into motion instantly when there is not a response. There has not been a single time that Fenris has called when Hawke has not answered.

They've been fugitives for long enough to know that this isn’t a good sign. He’s heard Hawke get stabbed in the shoulder countless times, heard him take a particularly damaging rush of Stonefist to the face (it took the Mage almost two hours to set Hawke’s nose back into place and to stop the bleeding), and then there was one memorable instance where Hawke managed to get his entire body stuck in a lake of quicksand.

Despite all of this, Fenris has not once heard Hawke make a sound like that before.

The lingering sense of dread filling his stomach sends his lyrium markings glowing in a rush of anxiety. Fenris hasn’t felt like this for years, not since Hawke disappeared in the Chateau with Tallis back in Orlais, leaving Fenris and Anders to search the entire castle for them to no avail. Hawke has been considerably more careful about warning Fenris since then, which he appreciates.

Fenris doesn’t even try to comfort himself. There is no point. There’s a very real chance Hawke will be seriously injured or worse still, _dead_ when Fenris rounds the corner. He has learned over the years that optimism is just as much of a poison.

(It does not do to hope on dreams.

As far as he’s concerned, Hawke is in danger. Fenris would tear all of Thedas apart to ensure Hawke’s safety.)

By the time he runs around the bulk of rocks he last left Hawke to rummage around for some herbs, the other man is gone.

There’s a torn off leaf of Elfroot, hanging by just a thread from the steam.

Fenris presses the heels of his hands into his face, and tries, helplessly, not to panic.

  


\---

  


His first instinct, as it always is -- an instinct that he can’t seem to shake even after all these years -- is to run.

At first, Fenris isn’t sure whether it’s to run to Hawke, or away from him. His feet are twitching in the grass, knees buckling in anticipation from the need to move. He’s always been great at executing self-control; there’s nothing but control when you spend your life as a slave, but this is testing his resilience already. He manages to keep his feet planted. It’s no small feat If Hawke were here, he’d like to think the other man would be impressed. Fenris _has_ settled marginally since the events of Kirkwall, but a life on the run is the one thing that will never leave him, he supposes.

It’s one of the only things he is unable to out run.

With a sigh, he turns towards the crevice in the rocks where he can still see the indents from Hawke’s boots digging into the soil. The best thing to do here would be to look around for clues, see if Hawke -- or whoever took him, which is less likely -- left anything behind for him to find. He doesn’t expect to find anything, but Fenris is nothing if not thorough, and he gets to work.

He loses time. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, digging around through piles of grass and dirt, looking under what rocks he can pick up, even if the chances of something sliding under there is slim.

All he finds is what looks to be a couple of discarded sovereigns, a shattered bottle of what looks to be cheap Ferelden wine, and something that looks suspiciously like one of those nug totems Fenris has caught Hawke marvelling at on more than one occasion.

Despite finding nothing like he expected, Fenris is unable to stop. Whoever captured Hawke is proficient and skilled, and that means that the longer he is gone, the more likely it is that he won’t return at all. He has an unhealthy amount of experience with being captured, so he knows the first couple hours are the most crucial. Hawke has been gone for nearly an hour and a half now, and Fenris is already grasping at straws with no purchase.

He blames himself. They’ve only been out here for a few days, having had to move even further east when the Mage-Templar war got even more prevalent and violent. Fenris isn’t too familiar with the terrain here, and he berates himself for not thinking to familiarize himself sooner. If he had, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Fenris should’ve been more on guard, shouldn’t have strayed too far away from Hawke like he had. There isn’t a safe place in all of Thedas for the Champion of Kirkwall, and he was a fool to think this place was an exception.

Fenris pockets the nug totem for later, telling himself when he finds Hawke he’ll be sure to slip it into his knapsack of supplies and valuables he keeps strapped to his waist. It is the small glimmer of hope he needs to hold onto.

He has wasted enough time already. With this in mind, he takes one last glance around for anything that he could have missed -- some blood smeared on the grass; there is none, it is far more comforting than it has any right to be, a clue to who had the courage to kidnap Hawke in the first place -- but the grass is as green as ever. There’s nothing left for either of them here.

Fenris’s stomach fills with dread. This, he realizes, is going to just as hard, or even harder than he expected.

  


\---

 

He will find Hawke.

No matter what it takes.

  
  
  
  


\---

  


Fenris decides to start at the mountainside.

They’re far enough north that there are plenty of slaver caverns and hideouts carved into the mountainside, multiple places for someone to stash human cargo. It takes him a few more hours to reach the mountainside, and by the time he gets close to one of the caves, he’s the type of bone-deep, weary exhausted that fills his limbs with lead.

He had to circle back to their campsite to grab a few potions. There’s no doubt if -- _when_ , he corrects himself -- Fenris finds Hawke he’ll be too injured and tired to heal himself properly, so Fenris knows the captors have had ample time to make themselves invisible again. He should have changed finding Hawke without having anything to treat his injuries with. Going back to their camp wasted time, and time is something Fenris knows Hawke is in short supply of. He could have dealt with the injuries on the road, could have gone back to the camp when he was sure he had found a safe cavern to settle Hawke in while he went back for potions.

Fenris wonders if he would have found him by now, had he not circled back.

Hawke’s been gone for almost five hours by now. The background buzz of panic has not settled along his nerves like the tide; drowning him for moments and receding back like it was never there seconds later. Sometimes, he’s collected and level headed. Other times, there is almost nothing stopping him from raging through the Hinterlands with his sword at the ready.

Generally, Fenris tries not to dwell. He doesn’t talk much about his time with Danarius anymore. Now that things are more out in the open between him and Hawke, there isn’t much of a need to dredge up spilt blood that no longer holds any relevance. But this is Hawke, and Hawke has somehow singlehandedly become the most important voluntary fixture in Fenris’s life since he can remember. There’s no use in trying not to be anxious about it. It would just make his struggle that much more apparent.

“Venhedis.”

(There is, predictably, no one to answer him this time either.)

He almost wishes Varric were here. They haven’t heard from him in a few weeks now, getting to the point where Hawke was growing worried and restless, haggling with the messengers for more information though there was none. Hawke had brought up possibly trying to look for him. The last they heard Varric was somewhere in the Frostbacks, looking for inspiration for his latest novel or whatever it was that he did whenever they weren’t with him. There’s a chance he’s is dead -- there’s always a chance their friends are dead, whenever they haven’t heard from them in too long; not that Fenris tells Hawke this. But it is the truth.

Fenris, like usual, tries not to pay attention to it; that Varric might be dead. He was never as close to Varric as Hawke, but Varric had always been a good friend to him.

The point is, Varric would know what to do here. He’s the one person about Bethany and himself who care a great deal about Hawke, who would go to the ends of Thedas to protect the man. If he knew Hawke had been taken captive, there would be no doubt he would be marching over here, regardless of the personal cost.

When it comes to his friends, Fenris knows Varric is the least selfish.

He knows this, knows that he has Varric and his spy network at his disposal, and yet he is alone.

There is no one who could possibly help him, now. Going for help would take much longer than Fenris can afford, and writing Varric would take even longer. He can’t do that to Hawke. Leaving him alone for longer than he’s comfortable with isn’t an option.

Fenris has no choice but to shoulder on, anyway.

  


\---

 

(There is nothing Fenris wouldn’t do for Hawke.

This, Fenris thinks, tearing apart the Hinterlands in order to find him, is but a small sacrifice.

He has operated on less, before.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> fun facts:
> 
> * i am incapable of choosing a username, apparently  
> * the majority of the first chapter was written while listening to halsey's badlands; gasoline & hurricane in particular  
> * some of fenris's inner monologue might seem familiar, as they were influenced from the game  
> * as always, while i will try to portray this fic as accurately as i possibly can (in terms of locations, lore, etc) i am but one person so i might mess up a couple times. feel free to point that out to me!  
> * thank you to charlie for essentially holding my hand while writing this and to wren for pointing out when i used commas way more frequently than necessary  
> * you'll be happy to know this has 85% less italics than normal, i know, i never thought i'd see the day, either
> 
> feel free to message me on tumblr about this fic !!! (@fenrishonk) or just to kick my ass if i take too long to update.


End file.
